Golden Lies
by nevergrowingup202
Summary: There had to be a mockingjay. The rebellion was already growing, just waiting for the opportunity to choose its symbol. What if there were no Katniss Everdeen? Who would have been thrust into the spotlight, chosen for that role? Very AU


Alexandra remembered Finnick Odair. The most recent victor from District 4, he had won the Hunger Games at just fourteen years old. He hadn't been a career tribute, but she still remembered the fierce smile he had given when he reached the stage. Normally, the tributes sobbed when their names were called. They stumbled and shook their way up to the stage. Finnick Odair had looked unsurprised, his face blank, when his name was called out. Alexandra remembered because she had been watching from home, terrified of the day she would have to attend the reaping. She remembered feeling sorry for him, until he reached the stage and turned to give the audience a startlingly violent smile.

In the games, he had combined strategies of alternatively hiding and attacking. He laid traps, and then hid away nearby to wait for someone to fall victim. Then, he would impale them on his trident while they struggled with the ropes and netting. She remembered how everyone had adored him. So young and beautiful, they had called him the god of the sea. The citizens in the capital had sent him expensive presents, that trident included. And he had emerged victor, and become the celebrity of her district. But she always remembered that smile of his. Alexandra thought that smile meant he must have been looking forward to the games, to when he could murder.

All of those thoughts clouded her head now, as she drove him down the coastal way. She had started driving trucks full of fish, crabs, whatever sea goods had to be shipped, at the age of fifteen. Her job was to transport them from the docks to the trains as quickly as possible. After a year, she was promoted to driving the taxis. They shuttled the rich capital visitors from the train station to the downtown region of District 4. She had recognized some of her patrons since her promotion. The stylist for District 4 frequently visited the town for its nightlife and beautiful coastal views. But never had she seen the likes of a victor in person after winning the games.

Now, Alexandra was chancing glances in her rearview mirror at none other than Finnick Odair. Horrified glances. The other girls her age swooned over the thought of running into him. They took to hanging out at places he had been rumored to visit, hoping to catch a glance. She was personally terrified of him, replaying the scenes of him driving his trident through the abdomen of his opponents in her mind. When she had to stop the vehicle, Alexandra chanced another glance at his companion, a ridiculously extravagant looking capital woman. The woman had died her hair shining lilac, feathers in the place of her eyebrows and eyelashes at least an inch long. She practically glued herself across the victor next to her, draping arms and a leg across his torso and lap. When Alexandra checked to see what Odair's reaction to this was, however, she was startled to find his golden eyes staring contemptuously back at hers in the mirror. Her heartbeat quickening, she jerked her head straight forward. She resigned herself to only stare out the windshield of the car, and not to look anymore in the rearview mirror, as she again started forward when the road had cleared.

"Oh, Finnick!" The capital woman exclaimed dramatically. "I've longed for the pleasure of your company! I'm delighted you agreed to escort me on my visit!" Alexandra had to marvel at the melodramatic way all people from the capital spoke.

"I assure you, it is my pleasure," Odair responded. Alexandra swallowed hard at his voice. She was used to hearing it through microphones and speakers. In person it sounded rougher, less musical and enchanting.

"You're so handsome in person," his date trilled. "I always loved seeing you at the Victor's Ball. This year we'll have to go together!"

"That sounds like a plan," Odair replied, voice even.

"Are you looking forward to it? It's always such fun!" The purple woman continued excitedly.

"Of course. I love the opportunity to participate in wasteful decadence," Odair replied, suddenly sounding much more entertained. His companion seemed to miss the negativity in his reply, laughing instead at what she apparently took for a joke.

Alexandra saw the hotel looming up above them, bright lights splashed across its facade in the dark. It was one of the most expensive buildings in the district, its suites lavishly decorated above a bustling club below. She slowed the vehicle, turning into the drive that took them around the front door. When she put the car into park, she immediately jumped out to open the rear door for her passengers. It was part of her job, to help her passengers in and out but never to speak to them. A silent chauffer.

However, when she reached for the door, Finnick Odair was already pushing it open. He stepped out, reaching around to offer a hand to his companion. She extricated herself from the back of the taxi, her hair almost catching on the door frame. For a moment she tottered on her high, needle-thin heels before catching her balance on Odair's arm. Alexandra grabbed the door handle, embarrassed she hadn't opened it for them. She waited for the capital woman, whose gaze skipped over Alexandra to take in the hotel's front entrance, to clear away from the taxi. However, before she could shut the door and hurriedly drive away from the pair, Finnick Odair's voice stopped her.

"Thank you," he said quietly. She dared chancing a glance at him. His golden eyes were on hers for the second time that night. He was tall, his form casting her in a shadow from the light of the hotel. Her cheeks flushed red with momentary nervousness. She didn't dare respond, just nodded her head. His eyes lingered on hers for another moment, before he turned, carefully escorting the woman towards the hotel. She clung to his arms, barely able to keep steady on the ridiculous shoes on her feet. Alexandra climbed into her taxi, relieved to be free of her last passengers of the night, and drove off.

She parked in the gravel lot behind the train station, the taxi she was assigned to blending in with all the other navy blue vehicles of similar size and shape. The words "District 4 welcomes you..." were painted on both sides of every car in white. She wondered, as she walked away towards the gate in the chain linked fence, how much one of those cars cost. Definitely more than she made in a year. Still, she was lucky to be assigned to the job she was, Alexandra knew that much.

It helped her mother pay their rent for the small two room apartment they kept. And it also allowed Alexandra to ensure that her and her two brothers only have to enter into the reaping once a year. No extra slips of paper with her or her family's names on them. She passed through the gate and started on her walk home. It was late, and she walked quickly. District 4 was pretty fairly divided between those who did well and those who did not. And in between the train station and the expensively decorated downtown region were neighborhoods that spanned all wealth levels. She had to pass through a few that were unsavory, but she always walked quickly and kept her hood up to hide that she was a woman.

When Alexandra arrived home, her mother was still up. Her younger brothers had probably already been in bed for a while. "You'll never guess who I drove tonight..." Alexandra said quietly, plopping down next to her mother on the patched up couch in their living space.

"Finnick Odair?" Her mother barely hesitated before offering. Alexandra turned, confused, to look questioningly at her mom.

"I heard on the district news... He's back for the Reaping next week," her mother explained. "He'll have to mentor the tributes..."

Alexandra didn't need reminded of this. "Yes..." Her mood suddenly sunk, her mind becoming preoccupied.

"You'll be fine. There are plenty of children who've had to put their name in a lot more than once a year," Her mother reminded her, laying her gentle hand over Alexandra's. And that year, during the 74th annual Hunger Games, her mother was right.

The next year, though, Alexandra wouldn't be so lucky.

* * *

She stood, shoulder to shoulder, with the other girls around her age. Girls that were seventeen, eighteen, all almost women. They were all almost there. Almost through their adolescence without being sacrificed to the Games. Alexandra couldn't help her eyes from searching around. The oldest stood in the back, youngest in the front. Across the center aisle, on the side where the boys stood, she could see her twin brothers up near the front. They were thirteen. They still had several years left to dodge the Reaping.

Alexandra felt like something was different about this year. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a quarter quell. Things were always more devastating, more horrifying, for the quarter quell, weren't they? She could have been imagining it, but she swore there were more cameras around than usual. Up at the very front of the square a huge stage was erected. It was covered in lights and microphones and speakers. There was a giant screen that showed the children's faces, as the cameras scanned around the crowd. And there on the stage stood Elmira Jozens. Elmira was the new announcer for District 4. She had started last year, and was already making quite a name for herself in the Capital. Or so the news gossip said. Alexandra stared at her clothes. All the children around her wore polite, nice clothes. New clothes, for many of them. The best their parents could afford for the most important event of the year. But Elmira, from the capital, wore blood red drapes. They trailed after her for more than a yard on the floor, coated with glitter that caught the light. Her hair was stood up straight from her scalp, crafted into spikes of black and red. Alexandra had to respect such devotion to costume.

Nearby, the two living victors of District 4 stood. They would serve as mentors to the unlucky souls taken as tributes. There was Finnick Odair. The camera panned to him, for probably the twentieth time already. He stood, face devoid of any emotion, his lips forced up in a slight mimicry of a smile. His golden eyes were slightly narrowed, like that of a hawk's searching for prey. Next to him stood Mags, the elderly woman who had been his own mentor. She had long, abundant gray hair that covered her fragile, small shoulders.

Alexandra noticed than instead of the usual two large glass balls that held the slips of paper with names written on them, there were three. Taken aback, she wondered what the third glass ball could be. There seemed to be only two slips of paper within it. Her mind searched for an explanation, startled.

"Ahem," Elmira cleared her throat, tapping at the microphone before her with one long fingernail. The cameras all panned to her. Nearby, the peacekeepers lining the aisle tensed as one. "Attention!" Elmira called. The crowd fell silent. Alexandra yearned to search behind her, to try to find her mother's eyes once more, but she kept herself looking straight forward.

"A message, from President Snow of the Capital!" Elmira called out happily to the now nervous, quiet crowd.

The large screen in back of her flickered to life.

There he was, President Snow. His hair and beard white and pale, but his lips raw flesh colored red. "Greetings! We assemble on this day to commence the 75th Annual Hunger Games, and Third Quarter Quell!" He paused, perhaps for applause where he was speaking. But in District 4, there was only one person clapping. Elmira Jozens clapped excitedly at the front of the audience. "As is the case with Quarter Quells, we shall use this opportunity to remind ourselves of the Greatness of the Capital! All that we are, and all that we have, we owe to the Capital." Again, he paused for apparent applause. "We must also remind ourselves, that for each day we live by the Capital's allowance...The next day, we might have to show our tribute to its power. No one is immune to the Capital's power. Not the young, not the old. Not the weak, and not the strong..." He paused, but Alexandra noticed that his voice had grown angered. He began speaking again almost immediately. "So, for this Quarter Quell, one of the tributes from each district...Will be chosen from the pool of existing victors."

Immediately, shocked voices erupted throughout the crowd behind and around her. Alexandra's eyes widened as the President's words sunk in. They were going to make the victors fight again? She strained to see Finnick Odair and Mags reactions, but they were still and she could not make out their faces. She couldn't believe they would throw an old woman into the arena. The crowd grew louder as President Snow's face hovered and flickered on the screen. Then, a gunshot rang out from one of the peacekeeper's guns. Alexandra flinched at the sudden bang.

The crowd immediately fell silent again, but she could feel the shock around her. President Snow resumed speaking after another minute of tense silence. "The other tribute shall be chosen from the regular pool of tributes for the opposite sex. Let this be a reminder that we are all in service to the Capital, and none of us can escape that debt." The President paused before adding, his eyes cold and dead seeming, "Let the Reaping begin." The screen went black for a moment as the President's image faded from it. Then, images from the cameras returned.

Elmira clasped her hands together, turning back from the screen to face them all. "Very well. Let's begin! We will start with the victors!" She approached the third glass bowl with only two slips of paper in it. The cameras swiveled and zoomed in on the victor's faces. Old Mags stood with her chin held high, her pale eyes unwavering as she stared forward. Next to her, Alexandra expected to see the cold smile back on Finnick Odair's face. But she was surprised to see his eyes downcast, and his mouth in a straight line.

Elmira drew one of the slips of paper from the glass bowl. She teetered on red heeled boots back to the main microphone, unfolded the paper, and read out "Mags Cohen!" in a clear, ringing voice. Alexandra gasped in shock. But before her indignation could set in for the old woman, Finnick Odair stepped forward and loudly announced, "I volunteer as tribute."

Around the crowd, gasps of both relief and anguish were heard. Their favorite celebrity, going back to face very good odds of death. On the stage ahead of them, Alexandra could see Mags wrap her fragile arms around the taller, stronger male victor. They zoomed in on the elderly woman's face, now stained with tears spilling over.

"Very well. Finnick Odair will be the male tribute for District 4. Which leaves, a female..." Elmira barely hesitated before walking towards one of the remaining two glass balls. Alexandra's heart dropped into her stomach, as she tried steeling her nerves. She forced herself to draw a small breath as Elmira drew a paper slip from a glass ball. The woman in blood red approached the main microphone, unfolding the piece of paper.

"Alexandra Sommer!" Elmira announced. For a moment, it did not sink in. Then Alexandra realized that was _her_ name. Her body felt like it was plunged in ice water as all strength left her body. She was going to die. She realized very suddenly that she was going to die. Vaguely, she registered the cameras turning towards her, the lenses rotated as they focused in on her. But in her mind, she was thinking of the predatory smile of Finnick Odair. And she realized very suddenly why he had smiled like that nine years ago. To look brave. To try to not appear as weak prey.

Alexandra clenched her fists together to keep from showing they were shaking. She lifted her head, clenching her jaw just as the two peacekeepers near her grabbed her arms. They shoved her forward, and she stumbled but tried to hold her head high. She felt tears threatening to spill over and bit down on her own tongue to try to stifle the tears. She clung onto anger, as meek as it felt inside her, as she was marched forward by the peacekeepers on either side of her. It felt like an eternal walk, but by the time she stumbled upon the stairs up to the stage, she had managed to keep the tears at bay. Elmira shuffled over, ushering her up on the stage. Alexandra avoided looking at her fellow tribute, already feeling pangs of terror at the thought of facing him as an opponent.

Instead, she let Elmira turn her around to face the crowd. She wished she could have smiled like Odair had done, but she couldn't muster the bravery. Instead, she clung onto anger and glared out at the crowd, at the cameras. The tears held in her eyes kept her from seeing individual faces, but she was grateful they did not fall. She stood as tall and still as she could, her fingernails biting into the palms of her hand as she clenched her hands tightly. She felt like she was shaking everywhere.

"Alexandra Sommer, our female tribute for District 4! Let's have a round of applause for our tributes!" Elmira announced, enthusiastically clapping. A few in the crowd clapped once or twice. Perhaps out of support. Alexandra didn't understand.

"Very well! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor," Elmira crooned out the end line, turning to leer at Alexandra. She supposed it was a smile plastered onto the capital woman's face, but beyond the smeared on black and red makeup, it looked nothing less than threatening. The woman's fingernails dug into Alexandra's arms as she turned her and guided her off the back of the stage. Alexandra blinked, desperately trying to clear her vision enough to see the steps leading down behind stage. The cameras behind her sagged as they turned off, the lights going dim.

When Elmira's hand left her arm, she came to a stop. Her eyes stared, unseeing. Then, Mags Cohen came into view. The old woman looked up into Alexandra's eyes, her gaze pained. A tear finally fell, unallowed, from Alexandra's eyes. Mags reached up slowly, and laid a frail, cold hand on her cheek. It managed to startle Alexandra from her reverie long enough to realize what had happened once again. It felt like a dream, but she had to keep realizing what was coming. She was going into the arena.

She knew she would die. She was not a fighter. She had no skills of survival. Mags dropped her hand, still frowning in sorrow. It comforted Alexandra a small bit that the old woman was kind, and that she would be spared. But that meant she would be going in against the cold blooded killer from her district. Her eyes wandered in search of him, but they didn't have to look far. He was right there behind Mags, a few feet from Alexandra. His arms crossed, he stared into the girl's gaze.

She knew he was sizing her up. She laughed suddenly. A small, bitter noise. It barely counted as laughter. Her opponent raised a single eyebrow, apparently intrigued by this gesture. "Don't worry. I'm no competition," She spit out, angrily. She suddenly felt full of rage. Hatred. She didn't care what anyone thought. The cameras were off, and even if they weren't, she'd be dead soon anyway.

"I remember you," Odair said slowly. "You drove the taxi."

His unexpected statement took the edge from her anger. She was surprised he would remember a lowly taxi driver like herself. But now she wasn't lowly. She was a tribute. She would be glorified and sacrificed and remembered for the next year tops. She would be someone important for a while.

The anger quickly faded and was replaced with anguish. Her chest felt like it was caving in on itself, crumpling in agony down on her lungs. Alexandra couldn't stop the whirlwind of ever-changing emotions swirling through her. She just wanted it to stop. She started walking, away from Mags and Odair, away from Elmira. She blindly stumbled away. Behind the stage, there was a lot of electrical devices set up. Wires and technology, probably all the stuff needed to broadcast from the cameras. Alexandra sank down behind it all, aware of the line of peacekeepers surrounding the exit from the stage.

She wasn't going to run anyway. She just needed to breathe. It felt like forcing fire into her lungs, every breathe she took burned. She felt numbness sinking into her brain and limbs, and wondered when she would feel normal again. Would she ever feel normal again, before she died?

"Oh, dear, that won't do!" Elmira Jozens chastised. The capital woman wearing sparkling blood red had found Alexandra, and now she shook a finger exaggeratedly. "Come along, you can't just sit there." Elmira gestured, and one of the peacekeepers started forward.

Alexandra struggled to her own feet, reluctant to let a peacekeeper drag her around again. "That's a good girl, yes! We must have you say goodbye to your family," Elmira announced happily, taking her once more by the arm.

She stumbled along, her eyes strangely dry as she felt like she was gagging on something. Elmira brought her out of the daylight, into a room by the train station. Alexandra dared to look up, and her eyes immediately landed on her mother.

She choked on her relief, stumbling forward into her mother's arms. "Mommy," she breathed, not realizing the childish tone her voice had taken.

"Shh, it will be alright," her mother murmured, her voice broken sounding. "Alexandra, it will be alright."

"It won't!" Alexandra managed to sob, her breath hitching and tearing at her throat. Her eyes burned with the sudden onslaught of tears.

Her mother, however, withdrew her arms slightly. Alexandra fought to cling to her, but her mother took a hold of her face and forced her to look up at her. Her mother's face was so kind, so beautiful. She never wanted to have to say goodbye.

"Alexandra, listen to me. Listen," Her mother repeated. When Alexandra nodded weakly, she continued. "You have to fight. You are _strong_."

"I'm not, mom, I'm not," Alexandra argued. Her mother, however, shook her head fiercely.

"You are. I've seen it. I've seen you fight back from the brink of death," she insisted.

"I was a baby mom. That doesn't count," she whispered, again burying her head into her mother's shoulder.

"It is still in you. You have to fight. You promise me, Alexandra. Do not give up. Never give up," her mother's voice was so fierce and strong. She wished she could sound like that. "Promise me, Alexandra."

"I promise," she told her weakly.

"Two minutes left," a male voice from the doorway announced. Alexandra turned, surprised, to see a peacekeeper standing there. Did he mean they only had two minutes left?

Eyes wide with horror, she turned back to her mother, a fresh onslaught of agony wreaking havoc on her lungs. "Should I get your brothers?" her mother asked, tears spilling over. Alexandra shook her head roughly.

"No! No," she muttered. "Don't let them watch, mom...Please..." Her mother just nodded, pulling her close.

"I love you, baby girl. I love you. You never give up, you hear me? I love you," Her mother repeated. She kept repeating that, until their two minutes were apparently up. She had to break Alexandra's hold on her, tears streaming down the older woman's face. The peacekeeper led her mother from the room.

Alexandra managed to call out one last time, "I love you!" before her mother was dragged from the doorway. Then, she collapsed. She didn't know how long they let her lay there, sobbing. It felt like forever, but it was probably only a few minutes. She felt someone touch her, lightly, on the shoulder. She looked up, expecting the makeup distorted face of Elmira. When she saw the tanned face of Finnick Odair instead, she jumped backwards from his touch.

He stepped back. "They need us on the train. Elmira didn't want to come get you. She dislikes crying," he said, voice low and slightly resentful.

Alexandra's mind struggled to comprehend what he had said. After a moment, she nodded, and then realized yet again that he would be her opponent in the arena. And here she was, crying on the ground in front of him. She must look so weak. Disgusted, she roughly rubbed her hands over her eyes, trying to dry away the tears.

She shoved herself up from the floor, numbly following Odair out of the room. There, ahead, she could see the train. It was similar to the ones that brought capital citizens to district 4 frequently. Shining metal, sleekly built for speed. Odair glanced once back at her, and Alexandra wondered if it was to check if she was actually following him.

She looked around, but her view of the crowd and the rest of the square was blocked by the buildings of the station. The only people she saw were technicians, camera men, and peacekeepers. And Finnick Odair and Elmira Jozens ahead, waiting on the platform. Alexandra climbed the steps up onto the stone train platform. Elmira turned, then smiled pleasantly at the sight of her.

"You look a little better dear. The shock wearing off?" the Capital woman asked, her red and black lipstick smearing off of her lips and spreading its way across her cheeks.

"The shock that I'm being put to death? No," Alexandra bit out, her anger flaring. She knew she shouldn't take it out on Elmira. She didn't know any better. A lifetime of living in the capital had probably numbed her to reality. All the capital people Alexandra had encountered over the years were like that. Still, she would rather cling onto the anger than venture back to the other emotions she could be experiencing. Her lungs still burned in pain.

Elmira looked taken aback. "Dear, the point of the games is that _you_ could win! Anyone could! It's fair!"

Odair snorted in derision at that. "Elmira, cut the crap please. The cameras aren't rolling, and we aren't in the mood," he ground out, voice aggravated.

Alexandra's eyes widened slightly at his mood. The Finnick Odair she had spent years watching in interviews, mentoring the tributes, never showed negativity. He certainly wouldn't talk like that. Elmira waved her hand dismissively, however.

"Finnick, you really need an attitude adjustment!" She trilled reprehensively. "If you are going to keep your sponsors, that is. You're going up against several old favorites."

With that, Elmira turned and teetered towards the train. The silver door shot open in front of her. Odair groaned but followed her, barely even looking back at the district. Only Alexandra hesitated. She turned, eyes prickling with new tears, back towards the district. However, the peacekeepers were still there, some shifting their weight from foot to foot. It made Alexandra nervous.

She forced herself to walk forward. The silver door slid open for her, and she stepped through. Alexandra knew the train would be lavishly decorated, being from the capital. But it still amazed her. Everywhere was gleaming wood and polished metals, and above her hung a delicate glass chandelier. A chandelier, on a train.

"Your room, dear, is down that passage to the right. Finnick's will be across from yours. Mine and Mags are last," Elmira told her, pointing towards the back of the train with a finger, and plopping down as if she were exhausted onto a seafoam green pouf. "The dining room is back this way, and then the kitchens." She gestured vaguely towards the front of the train.

Alexandra nodded uncertainly. She felt a slight movement under her feet as the train shifted. Were they leaving already? She turned, her eyes finding the view of the platform outside the large glass windows. Then, suddenly, the train kicked into gear and the platform started whizzing by. Alexandra took a few steps closer to the window, her breath hitching. This would be the last time she would see District 4, her home. As the train gained speed, she was able to make out a blur of the crowd still gathered in the square. They were probably watching the reapings in other districts, she realized.

Then, she saw the different edges of neighborhoods flashing by. Every once and a while she would catch a glimpse of a street she used to drive down in her taxi. Before long, they had passed the few tall buildings of downtown and were cruising along the coast. Alexandra watched the sparkling blue ocean outside the window for a few moments before finally, she was able to snap herself out of it. What good would staring out the window do? Seeing something with her eyes wouldn't make it her reality anymore.

She turned, only to find that Finnick Odair had silently walked up behind her. A few feet away, he too was staring out the window. His eyes seemed lost, mesmerized by something out in the ocean. For a moment, she just searched his blank face. Then, his eyes snapped over to hers.

She tore her eyes away from his confronting glare. She found herself walking, towards the back of the train, away from his turbulent mood. She realized a compartment of the train was "hers" for the journey, and at least she might be able to find solitude there. The compartment door opened when she pushed on the small keypad to the right. It didn't require a passcode, it just opened. She stepped through, hearing it click shut again behind her.

The room was long and narrow. Everything was decorated in shades of blue and green and tan, the colors of District 4. Alexandra walked over to the bed, sitting down. She attempted to stay calm still. But finally, with some degree of privacy, she snapped. The tears started silently at first, but soon gut wrenching noises joined them.

* * *

She had no idea how long she cried for. Her voice was hoarse, her eyes swollen up and blurry. But she felt she had manage to come to terms at least partially with her fate. In between the rage and despair, the hopelessness and the agony, she had considered asking Finnick Odair to do it personally. Perhaps, if she approached him about it right, he would agree to kill her himself first thing in the games. At least then she could count on it being quick, and as merciful as possible. Even when Odair killed in the games, he always did it quickly. And maybe he would do her this small favor.

She had dismissed the idea, remembering her mother begging her to fight. To try to stay alive. It would let her mother down if the games started and Alexandra stood there and let Finnick Odair impale her. She would have to fight. If anything, to make her mother proud. To die with some sort of dignity.

That was the extent of her coming to terms. That she would do all she could to preserve her dignity in the arena. With all of those cameras watching, it was the last thing she could cling to before death. Finally, her eyes felt dry. She suspected it was just because she had ran out of tears.

"Alexandra!" An annoyingly upbeat voice called from the other side of the compartment door. "Dinner, please! Join us!" Elmira was announcing dinner? How could that be?

Alexandra jumped up from where she had been laying, prone on her side on the bed. She walked over to the window, only to realize that it was indeed several hours later than when she had first entered her room. She quickly walked into her small bathroom, alarmed by all of the strange knobs over the shower. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror and swore. She looked like she had cried for hours. Which, obviously, she had, but Alexandra didn't want to look as if she had.

She turned the cold water on in the sink, splashing the water onto her face liberally. When she patted her face dry with the large, fluffy aqua towel, her eyes looked slightly better. They were still puffy, but not as red.

A sharp rapping noise came on the door to the compartment. "Alexandra! Dinner, please!" Elmira sounded irritated.

"Coming!" Alexandra practically screamed back. She felt some of the anger return to her. Breathing deeply, she strode from the bathroom to the door to her compartment. It opened at her approach, and she entered the small passageway that led back to the main compartment. There, Elmira was waiting.

"Finally! You have to keep up your strength, you know," The other woman huffed as if she were an impatient mother. She escorted Alexandra to the dining compartment. There, a huge ornate dining table was laid out with every type of food dish Alexandra could imagine. Mags Cohen, whom Alexandra hadn't seen enter the train, was sitting next to Finnick Odair on one side. She smiled at Alexandra's gaze. She smiled halfheartedly back. Elmira sat down opposite of Mags, pointing a finger at the chair next to herself.

Alexandra took it as a nonverbal order, and acquiesced. She sat down next to Elmira, across from Finnick Odair. Keeping her gaze low, she realized there was a full glass of wine by her plate. She reached out, and within a minute had downed the entire contents. Alexandra had never tried alcohol before, and found its taste unappealing. Still, she didn't mind the automatic warmth that spread through her stomach.

She heard a low chuckle issue from across the table of food. Meekly looking up, she saw a small grin on Finnick Odair's face. "Guess we'll be locking up the liquor, then."

It took Alexandra a moment to realize he was joking with her. Mags was glancing between the two of them, a hesitant smile on her worn face. "Well, I might as well enjoy myself while I can," Alexandra offered, also hesitant.

Elmira nodded encouragingly. "Exactly! And we have by far the best of the capital's wines! I also adore some of the desserts our chef makes, they are to die for!" she exclaimed, happy apparently at the slightly lighter atmosphere of the group.

Alexandra couldn't help but laugh. She'd have to try some, then, if she were going to die for them. She watched the others help themselves, and scanned over the food in front of her. However, none of it seemed appealing. Despite the fact it might be her last chance to taste some of the meals, she couldn't find the urge to want to eat them. When she caught Elmira's reproachful glances, however, she forced herself to take some food onto her plate.

She bit into salmon, chewing mechanically and forcing herself to swallow the fish. Elmira sighed contentedly next to her. "Anyway, I thought after dinner perhaps we could watch the other districts' reapings?" the capital woman offered.

"We need to see what victors were chosen," Mags said, her frail voice sounding saddened. Alexandra glanced up from her picked at meal, surprised to hear Mags finally speak.

"Chosen? Hell, I'm sure half of them volunteered," Finnick spoke out. He was filling up his glass of wine, and when he finished, he reached over for Alexandra's glass. She watched in a daze as he filled her glass, sitting it back in front of her.

"You volunteered," Elmira reminded him. She snapped her fingers twice, eyes towards the Avox girl in the corner. With that, the main courses started being cleared from the table.

"Well, I couldn't wait to have a go at Enobaria and those fangs of hers," Odair drawled sarcastically. "I bet she volunteered."

Elmira sighed. "You really need to better that attitude, Finnick. This will not do on interview day. In a game like this, a quarter quell, you desperately need sponsors."

Odair waved a hand dismissively. "I'll put on for the cameras, you know that, Elmira," he sighed. Alexandra's eyebrows raised. However, she felt stupid for being surprised. Of course she should have known. All of the tributes and victors probably acted for the cameras. Just like she had tried to act brave walking up to the stage during the reaping. They all played their own angles and roles.

It was silent for a moment as the desserts were served in front of them. Alexandra immediately took a piece of the huge chocolate cake. If the desserts were to die for, she might as well try them since she would be dying for them.

She chanced a glance across the table yet again at Finnick Odair, who was popping cherries into his mouth. She quickly glanced back down, picking up her wine glass. Mags spoke up suddenly, interrupting the brief silence. "We should discuss strategies..." she suggested, glancing between the tributes.

"We should," Finnick agreed immediately. "But not here..."

Alexandra's eyes shot up, offended. Mags was supposed to be her mentor, too, after all. Though she should expect the older woman to favor helping Odair. He had, after all, volunteered in her place. She owed it to him to keep him alive. Alexandra realized she wasn't going to get much help out of anyone in this gang.

"Why not here?" Elmira demanded, looking offended.

Finnick smiled tauntingly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He teased the capital woman. She huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Well then I suppose it will have to wait," She quipped, helping herself to some sort of pastry.

Alexandra downed another glass of wine, leaving the glass empty and hoping Odair wouldn't fill it again. She already felt quite tipsy. However, the Avox girl quickly fetched another bottle, bringing it to the table. The girl filled all of their glasses. Alexandra sighed before mentally saying what the hell.

"Very well. Lets bring up the reapings, shall we?" Elmira offered, gesturing to the large screen at the end of the table. Alexandra turned slightly, surprised to see the screen flicker to life almost immediately at Elmira's suggestion.

Pre-recorded reaping ceremonies started playing, starting in District one. There, a boy named Argorn volunteered. He was eighteen years old, most likely a career. He was extremely muscular, taller than average. He looked excited, happy to be volunteering. He was proceeded by the victor from his district, a woman named Gloss. She had been a fan favorite in her hunger games, five years ago. She was tall, blonde, and gorgeous. Alexandra remembered her from that game, because she had made an alliance with several males. She had pretended to be an ally, using them to kill her enemies, then killed the boys as they slept.

Alexandra tried to pay attention to the tributes as they were covered, but she kept sipping at her wine. She found the more of it she drank, the less she cared. The less the people showing on the screen bothered her. She listened to Elmira, Mags, and Odairs' comments, recorded them mentally somewhere. But still, she didn't really care. She knew she would die by one of them.

Finnick had been correct about Enobaria volunteering from District 2. Alexandra watched the fan favorite victors volunteer or be chosen, while pitying the other tributes from the district. She vaguely listened to her mentor, fellow tribute, and capital escort talk about each one's strengths, weaknesses, or history. She didn't care. By the time the last tribute was announced from District 12, Elmira was yawning.

"Very well. Now we see the competition!" Elmira announced. The screen showed the banner of the Capital waving gently in a probably manufactured breeze, the capital song playing to conclude the reapings.

"Cheers," Odair replied, holding up his wine glass. When no one offered theirs, he laughed, downing his wine in one go. "Very well, I'll celebrate alone," he mused.

Mags laid a hand on his arm when he reached again for the newest bottle of wine. He paused, glancing down at her small, frail hand. He dropped his arm, sighing. "I'm sorry, Mags," he muttered. Alexandra's eyebrows furrowed together, confused.

"I think we should talk about sponsors. You're very popular in the capital, Finnick, but Alexandra...You're an unknown. We need something to change that. To make you stand out, in a crowd, yes?" Elmira asked, turning to glance at Alexandra.

Alexandra just shrugged. Elmira frowned. "I don't really want sponsors. Let them sponsor someone with a chance," she said, laughing suddenly. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to bed," she said, all of a sudden deciding she wanted to be alone again. She pushed her chair back, standing up.

"We need to talk, Alexandra," Mags said quietly.

Alexandra looked at the old woman, who suddenly looked concerned. She smiled sadly. "It's alright, Mags. I don't need your help. I don't want either of your help," she said, glancing between the old woman and Odair. He, for once, held his eyes low and didn't look back at her. Was he contemplating that he would have to let her die? Was he considering doing it himself? She started for the door back towards their sleeping quarters, hesitated, and grabbed the bottle of wine.

She took it with her back to her bedroom, figuring, why the hell not. By the time it was finished, she was probably downright drunk. She didn't know, she hadn't ever drank before.

* * *

Alexandra fell into a restless sleep as the sun set outside her window, spread out on the rich fabrics the capital had draped her bed in. She wasn't sure exactly how much later it was when she awoke to someone shaking her by the shoulders. Startled, she realized she was screaming. The noise died in her throat, as her arms and legs, which had been kicking and punching out, went limp. Her mind struggled to connect the sudden reality with what she had been dreaming. A vague image of hooded, dark figures attacking her faded. The threat of knives, rocks, and other random weapons dispersed.

As soon as conciousness stirred in her mind and the dream faded, she became alarmed at the fact someone was in her sleeping quarters. She finally shook the last vestiges of sleep and managed to peel open her eyes, jerking her arms back from whoever held them captive.

"It's alright, damn it!" Odair swore, holding his hands up when he saw her wake up. He kneeled back away from her. His eyes caught the little light in the room, seeming to light up with flecks of gold and green. "You were screaming in your sleep," he explained, raking a hand through his messed up hair. It was sticking up at odd angles here and there.

Alexandra realized it was very dark in her compartment, meaning it must be well into the night outside. That combined with Odair's hair, which suggested her screams had woken him from his own sleep, told her she had been asleep a while.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, embarassed, dragging herself up into a sitting position and slightly away from the shirtless man kneeling on her bed. He shrugged.

"We all get the dreams," he sighed, glancing away from her. Alexandra swallowed hard as she felt herself growing nervous. She had seen Finnick practically nude before, as the stylists always liked to go scant with his clothing. But somehow having him there in front of her, tan and bare from the waist up, was a little more intimidating. Worse yet, he seemed to sit down more comfortably on her bed as if settling himself.

"While I have you trapped here..." He began thoughtfully, dragging his gaze back towards her own. At the alarmed expression on her face, he chuckled. "I think we should talk about our strategy."

She stared at him for a moment. Then, Alexandra repeated incredulously, "You want to talk about our strategy? In the middle of the night?"

She noticed as Odair rolled his eyes. "Well I wanted to talk to you about it earlier, but you grabbed up the bottle of wine and stormed off."

Alexandra felt her cheeks flush and was happy it was too dark for him to see that. "Look, I don't know if you're trying to help me, or what... but I don't need a strategy. And I'm sure I can't help you with yours," she said slowly, shrugging. Odair was silent for a minute, his eyes searching the darkness of her room as if he were thinking. She tried to make out the features of his face, curious what was on his mind.

"I think we should have the same strategy," he said finally. "Which means we need to work together."

Alexandra was speechless for a moment. Why would Finnick Odair want to work with her? She was useless, and they both had to know it. Her brow furrowed as she returned to searching his face for deceit, or some sort of manipulation. But he looked calmly back at her, until the corners of his mouth lifted up into a small smile that was almost teasing.

"I don't understand," she admitted finally. His small smile grew into a full one.

"I figured you wouldn't. It was actually Mags that reminded me of the rule change. Remember, last year?" Finnick started to explain, his voice growing more excited. He leaned forward, and Alexandra felt her body tense at the reduced distance between them. She shook her head.

"Rule change?" she asked.

He nodded. "Two tributes can win the Hunger Games, if they are both from the same district. They changed the rule to try to add some kind of angle, like to encourage alliances, betrayal, blah blah..." he waved a hand. "But the games last year were so extreme, most of them ended up freezing to death. Remember?"

She nodded, she remembered well seeing most of the tributes freeze. Finnick pressed on, his voice growing more urgent. "So not many people paid attention to the rule change because nothing came out of it, right? But its still in the books. Which means we can both win," he concluded, the same fierce smile spreading slowly across his face that she remembered from nine years before. She stared.

"Why would you want to partner up with me? I am useless," she said plainly. She wasn't going to bother sugar coating it. Better he know now than in the arena and turn on her.

Odair leaned forward on the bed, setting his hands on either sides of her legs. She froze as he stared quite intently into her eyes. "What haven't they seen yet?" he asked, voice quiet and taking on a new quality. She thought he sounded almost desperate.

She shook her head, words failing her. She didn't know where he was going with this.

"They've seen someone die just about every way a person can die, Ally," he told her. "They've seen alliances form, and betrayed, they've seen people freeze, starve, dehydrate, they've seen people stabbed, bludgeoned-" he continued on almost frantically.

"So!?" Alexandra interrupted, suddenly. His desperate voice and the confrontational way he held her eyes were fraying her nerves into pieces. She just wanted to go back home.

"So they haven't seen love," Finnick finally concluded, leaning back a little bit from her. She felt like she could breathe finally, but she was confused. She narrowed her eyes, questioningly. "Think about it. There's never been a romance in the arena," he told her, grinning suddenly, almost predatory.

"So what? You want to fake that we're in love or something?" she asked, her voice disbelieving. However, she was shocked when he nodded.

"Yes. Exactly," he agreed. Her mouth fell open slightly. "Just think about it, Ally."

"I don't like being called Ally," she told him finally, her voice faint. She didn't really care, if anything she said it just to distract from the insane idea he was trying to convince her of.

He ignored that. "There are a dozen fan favorites going in there. Victors that are experienced killers, that have sponsors cheering for them in the capital," Odair explained, voice rough with urgency. "How else do we get those sponsors to favor us instead? If we give them something they've never seen before... they'll go crazy. They'll do anything they can to keep us alive, _just to keep watching us_!"

Alexandra felt herself shaking her head mechanically. "That won't ever work-"

"It will!" He protested, suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders. She recoiled from him defensively. "You don't know these people. I do! I've lived in their world for the past decade, almost. They will eat it up. It will be new, exciting. They're starving for this, Ally, and if we want a chance in hell of getting out of there... We have to give it to them."

"You want to fake falling in love?" she asked. "How do we do that? I can't fake that!"

"Not even if your life depended on it?" Odair asked, jumping up off her bed. He paced several steps away before turning on her. "The best odds go to whoever has the sponsors, honey."

"I can't...I can't do this..." she mumbled, feelings her nerves crumble again. She clenched her fists, willing herself not to cry.

"I'm giving you a chance to live through this," Finnick told her, voice argumentative. Alexandra looked up at him, his face dark with emotion, and realized he was right. This might be her only chance. She willed herself to take a deep breath, and another.

"I'm not a good actor," she said when she felt slightly more composed.

"Well lucky for you, I'm an amazing one. You're what, seventeen? Eighteen?" he asked.

"Seventeen," she muttered.

"So you're a good bit younger than me. That's good, it will be believable if you're shy. I'll try to lead you through it," Odair walked back over to the bed and her. "Can we agree on this?" he asked, his eyes guarded.

Alexandra stood up, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I can try... I have to try." Her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

"We should spend more time together then, for Elmira. She can't know its a scam," he told her. "I don't trust her. But Mags is already in the loop."

"Finnick..." Alexandra interrupted him hesitantly. He paused, giving her a questioning glance. "Do you really think this will work?"

"I think if we can pull it off... If we say the right things in the interviews...If we can show physical attraction...Yes, maybe," he shrugged. "Are you physically attracted to me?"

She hesitated. "Well...yes."

"Then I guess we've got a chance... Ally, you've got to pull it together. I know you're freaking out," he said, his voice growing calmer than it had been previously. "But this is my life too. You have to stay strong. For my sake, at least." He laughed, genuinely, at that. She couldn't help but smile a little bit. His words reminded her of her mother.

"Alright then... Alright," she said, finally feeling some hope. If she went into the arena with Odair, maybe...just maybe she could make it out alive. "I think I can do this."

"All of it?" he asked hesitantly. "Come here..." he said suddenly, closing the distance between them.

She backed up, taken aback. "What for?"

"I'm going to kiss you," Finnick announced calmly. Alexandra's heart dropped into her stomach.

"What?!" she asked, aghast. The man in front of her rolled his eyes in frustration.

"I have to know if we can make it look real. Otherwise the whole plan's bust," he muttered, stepping closer to her. She felt his hand on her cheek as she stared, slightly horrified, up into his gold flecked hazel eyes. He brought his face close to hers, and without meaning to, she flinched away.

"You see that?" he murmured, his breath warm on her lips. He was only inches away from her . "You hesitated. In the arena, you can't do that. You can't hesitate."

She took a deep breath, waiting for him to make his move. But he hesitated, his lips lingering close to hers. "Just do it," she muttered, nervous and irritated.

When his lips first contacted hers, she at first felt completely confused as to what to do herself. But then, she felt his fingers softly trace down her cheek. His lips pressed firmer against hers, and she felt an electric jolt shoot up her spine. She felt herself kissing him back, her hand reaching for him. But then it was over. He pulled back, sighing.

Alexandra felt a burning blush rush over her cheeks and down her neck. She was breathing heavily, she realized, and tried to slow down.

"That will work," Odair muttered, turning away from her. She watched him walk quickly to the door to her compartment. She wondered if he was really going to leave like that.

He paused at the door. When it slid open, he walked out. Alexandra raised her eyebrows, beyond confused. After a few minutes she sank back down onto her bed, laying back and staring up at the dark ceiling of the train. Would she really be able to do this?

She didn't know what kind of stuff to say, in the interviews. How could she act like she was falling in love with him? She hadn't even had a boyfriend yet. She had no idea how to do any of this. The only thing that reassured her was the fact that Odair knew his life depended on this too. Maybe he would give her pointers. Maybe he'd even tell her what to say.

Suddenly, Alexandra remembered when she had first met him in person. She remembered the woman in the back of her taxi, draped across him. She had assumed the woman was his date, but now... she had a sneaking suspicion that Finnick did a lot of acting when it came to romance.

But why would he pretend to like that woman from the capital? It made sense, why he would want to fake it in the arena with Alexandra. But that night in the taxi made no sense. She remembered when he had caught her gaze in the rearview mirror. His eyes had been filled with turmoil, angry. Confused, Alexandra rolled over on the bed. She felt tired still, but her mind was racing. It made no sense, why a victor would pretend to date capital citizens. Unless he somehow knew he would be going back into the arena and was trying to gain sponsors.

Alexandra felt a chill go down her spine. None of the victors had seemed surprised during the reapings, when President Snow announced the quarter quell. None had looked shocked about going back into the arena. Maybe, they all knew...

She felt tears stinging at her eyes. But for once since the reaping, the tears weren't out of pity for herself. She wondered what happened to the victors after they won. What made them become "amazing" actors.

Alexandra couldn't fall back asleep until the sun was rising outside her window. Weak rays of light bounced into her room, then stronger rays followed. She stared up at the ceiling, feeling numb. She knew she had to snap out of this.

Finnick Odair had given her a chance, she had to be strong. For her mother, her brothers, herself...and even her fellow tribute.


End file.
